Page 111 of Tasty Cherry

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Page 111 of Tasty Cherry

He reaches between us to touch me and this makes everything move so much faster. I clutch at him, pressing his face into my chest. He nips at my breasts and I lean in. “Bite harder.”

He does, and the force of it goes straight to the core of me. I cry out, everything bursting. The water splashes wildly, and Sebastian groans against my skin.

We cling to each other, not moving, riding out the storm. Between us, muscles clench and release, clench and release.

The water goes still. It feels cool against my back.

We hold on a while longer, our chests heaving.

He kisses everything he can reach. “Mila…”

I hold the back of his head where damp hair has curled against his neck. “We got wet.”

“We did.”

From somewhere in the room, a phone buzzes. Duty calling.

“We have to go,” I say.

“Damn it, we do.”

He opens the plug and the water gurgles down. Thankfully, there’s a rack of towels right beside us.

We climb out and dry off with minimal mess to the room.

“I’ll drop these off,” Sebastian says, picking the towels up.

I nod. “I’m probably missed in maintenance.”

“I’ll cover for you if Trey has any questions.”

I shake my head. “No. I’ll take whatever he dishes out about my tardiness. It’s better that way.”

Sebastian nods. “We should stick to quickies.”

“I’m willing to get in trouble over this one.”

Sebastian picks up his phone. “The buzzing wasn’t mine.”

I find my cell in my pants pocket and pull it out.

Brooklyn: I hate it here and I’m going to leave.

Uh oh.

I race to get my pants on, scrolling through messages.

“Everything okay?” Sebastian asks.

I was worried this might happen. She’s been in laundry all week, which was a big letdown after doing events last week. Plus, she has to deal with all the drama of the other three girls there who were having sex with Maverick. He’s apparently dumped them all.

This made her happy at first, but then Maverick stopped coming to see her, too.

I read all her messages quickly.

Brooklyn: I found out why Mav’s too busy for anybody.

Brooklyn: He’s fucking Chef Monique!




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